Andrea de Manhattan
by jazwriter
Summary: I was asked to write a story loosely inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac. In it, Andy would help a would-be suitor woo Miranda while fully aware of the depth of her feelings for Miranda. Lots of old-fashioned, romantic language. Reposted into parts.
1. Prologue

**Andrea de Manhattan**

Author: JAZWriter

Pairing: Miranda/Andrea, The Devil Wears Prada

Author's Notes: In August 2010, **minerva_ed** submitted on the LiveJournal DWP board a prompt for a story loosely inspired by _Cyrano de Bergerac_. In it, Andy would help a would-be suitor woo Miranda while fully aware of the depth of her feelings for Miranda.

Dedication: Since **thefutilitarian** suggested I write this piece, I dedicate it to her.

Special Thanks: To **peetsden** and **quiethearted** for taking a look at this one. They caught what I did not and helped me to make this even better.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Devil Wears Prada, the characters found therein or _Cyrano de Bergerac_. I did refer to/borrow (i.e. rip off) several lines from _Cyrano_, but I promise to give them back.

**Author's Notes, too: Please be aware that the language is romantic and a bit old-fashioned. Just go with it. Also, please note that Andrea did not leave Miranda in Paris. **

**All links are up, and the story is complete. I hope you enjoy it.**

Rating: R/M/NC-17 eventually

Word Count: About 7,400 plus 1.

* * *

Prologue

_Earlier_

"Tell her you cannot bear to leave without a sign that she will not throw your love away like a pair of last season's shoes," Andy says in a low voice from the bushes. The front light shines like a spotlight on Gregory who looks a bit panicked.

Andy arches her neck to see him more clearly while adjusting a sprig to cover her face.

"I can't…"

"Tell her!" Andy hisses.

_This is ridiculous. He is absolutely clueless. How does he expect to win Miranda's love if he is unwilling to speak her language?_

"I cannot bear to leave without some sign that you won't throw away my love like last season's shoes," Gregory shouts at the door.

"I realize I am nothing but a bargain-bin cast-off, whereas you are a priceless Coco Chanel gown," Andy feeds to Gregory. He hesitates. "Say it!"

"I, I realize I am just a bargain-bin cast-off while you are a priceless Coco Chanel gown," Gregory says while waving his arms.

"But, Coco always wished to have her masterpieces enjoyed instead of merely appreciated from afar," Andy says to Gregory from her hiding spot.

Andy nods her head as she hears him repeat her words exactly.

"How can you deny my heart, condemning it to be hidden within a Nine West handbag instead of vintage Gucci?" Andy dictates.

As soon as Gregory finishes shouting this line, the door is thrown open.

"Are you saying I am an old bag?" Miranda demands. She doesn't sound angry, though. She sounds amused.

"No, no! Of course not, Miranda," Gregory says aghast.

"You are ridiculous. Get in here!" Miranda says and pulls him forward by his tie. The door closes definitively. Silence reigns. Andy remains in the bushes, numbed by what she has just done. She has just seduced Miranda with words, her words. And now she is probably being held in Gregory's arms, being loved by Gregory's mouth while Andy sits alone, hidden in the dark. As if to emphasize her thoughts, the front light clicks off.

Her heart heaving with grief, Andy carefully extricates herself from her hiding spot and walks away. _Gregory will take good care of her. He's a good man. He cares about Miranda_. Andy desperately hopes that Miranda will finally be happy.

Andy tucks her hands into her coat pockets as she continues back to her cold apartment. She doesn't notice the tears streaming down her face or the sobs that break free every so often. She keeps her mind blank, like the unsullied stationary she blesses regularly with her hopeless thoughts. Every day she stares at that perfect paper, attempting to reduce to words how sincere her love is for Miranda. For the last month she has allowed Gregory to sign each of those insufficient love letters, pretending he has poured out his heart, and to use them as tools to win Miranda's heart. Andy is well aware that, although many words have found their way onto the paper, they are mere shadows of her true feelings.

No words can hope to capture how closely she watches Miranda to make sure she is not disturbed by needless irritations. No words can hope to capture how a frown affects Andy's entire day, throwing her into a maelstrom of despair. No words can hope to capture how Miranda's upturned lips or small nod directed Andy's way can transform her world into fragrant roses and mellifluous birds.

Andy must be content with the knowledge that she has had a hand in making Miranda happy. She has helped Gregory touch Miranda's heart. Her job is done. Andy has traded her happiness for Miranda's. With a wistful smile, Andy swipes at the tears. She will not allow herself to regret what she has done. Seeing Miranda happy will make her heartbreak worthwhile.


	2. Chapter 1

Part 1

_Two months earlier_

"Girl, you've got to get your head out of the clouds. She treats you like yesterday's trash. You're her very young, female assistant. Her emplooyyeee. Helllooo, am I getting through to you?" Lily trots out this argument every few weeks but to no avail. Andy fights a grin at how worked up Lily gets while delivering her speech.

The truth is Andy simply cannot move on. She knows it's unhealthy. She knows she needs to stop fixating on a person who cares nothing for her. But she can't. Ever since Paris, ever since she'd seen Miranda at her most vulnerable, Andy cannot deny her feelings. Andy finally had to admit that she has harbored feelings for her boss ever since the moment she'd walked in to Miranda's office over a year ago asking for a job. Nate had never stood a chance.

"I know what you are telling me is absolutely correct. I know this. But my heart just won't listen. She is the most beautiful, the most captivating, the most intelligent…"

"Andy! Come on, sweetie, you have to let this fantasy go!" Lily exclaims with a huff.

"She's exquisite. A mortal danger without meaning to be one."

"I'll say!"

"She's a trap set by nature, a rose in which love lies in ambush! Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection."

"The devil smiles?" Andy ignores her friend.

"She creates grace without movement and makes all divinity fit into her slightest gesture."

"Like when she dismisses her peons with a flick of her wrist?"

"I'm less than a peon. I'm nothing. No, I am worse than nothing because when she thinks of me, her lip probably curls with derision. I'm dirt on the sole of her Pradas, the aftertaste of a cheap bottle of wine, flat Pellegrino, pond scum, synthetic—"

"Okay, girl, let's not go crazy. Crazier. You are not any of those things, Andy. You are attractive, intelligent, funny, kind—Andy, she doesn't have any clue what she's missing."

"Why would she?" Andy wails. "I am beneath her notice, a used candy wrapper, tile mold—"

"Not that again!"


	3. Chapter 2

Part 2

_One month earlier_

Andy gazes around the room intent on determining who will next approach Miranda. She has made sure to know all the players. She stands behind Miranda's left shoulder, quickly leaning in to feed the names of those who dare approach. Miranda stands prominently, mingling with all the important people as if she were a queen gracing the plebeians with her presence. Everyone certainly fawns all over her. It is a wonder Miranda hasn't slipped on their saliva.

Andy watches as a tall, distinguished-looking man approaches Miranda. She recognizes him as one of the charity event coordinators. Andy gives his name and rank to Miranda and curiously waits to hear what he has to say.

"Miranda," the distinguished man says. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He takes the proffered fish-hand and kisses her knuckles. "You look great." _Uh, oh._ Andy watches Miranda's lips tighten in disapproval. Miranda displays a fake smile and emits an even faker laugh.

"Why thank you, Gregory. I hope you are enjoying your evening." Miranda turns to look at Andy. "Andrea, aren't you working on some article about worthwhile charities?"

_How does Miranda know? _Andy has been writing some freelance articles over the last six months with Miranda's approval. In fact, Andy is hoping that soon Miranda will actually print one of her articles. However, Andy will not dare ask for consideration until she is certain her writing is good enough.

Andy looks over at Emily in confusion, then glances away as she nervously pulls on the hem of her dress. Looking back toward Emily, she notices with shock how she is frantically waving a hand in a fast, forward circle. Emily's face features a slightly shocked, nauseous, pissed-off look. _Right. I need to answer._

Hurriedly Andy replies. "Oh, yes, Miranda." Miranda seems amused, while Gregory stands next to them looking thoroughly confused.

"Andrea," Miranda says in her special way while smiling slightly. It makes Andy think of when she first had seen Miranda at the beginning of the evening. Andy had looked around the enormous hall, filled to capacity with the glittering elite, wealthy philanthropists, and excited star-gazers, all wanting Miranda's attention. Every other person, no matter how famous, how rich, or how powerful, had faded in the face of Miranda's ability to capture everyone's attention, including Andy's.

Before she could filter her words Andy had greeted Miranda like the love-sick sycophant she is: "Good evening, Miranda. Valentino has outdone himself, I see. Your beauty obviously has inspired him." Andy had tried not to stare at Miranda's enticing cleavage or smooth shoulders, or unblemished skin, or swan neck—but it was hard. Swallowing around the boulder in her throat while pretending her face was not flushed with embarrassment, Andy had raised her gaze into sharp, focused eyes. _Did I really just call her beautiful?_

Miranda had stared at her for so long that Andy had shifted from foot to foot. "Andrea."

Her name, uttered softly in that velvety voice, struck Andy mute, and she could do nothing but stare. Finally, Miranda had released their gaze and sent Andy off to retrieve a drink from the bar for her.

Mentally shaking her head, Andy attempts to concentrate on what Miranda is now saying. "Gregory, I'm sure, will be glad to answer any questions you may have." Glancing at the man in question, Andy bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. He seems bewildered. Welcome to the world according to Miranda. Still, Andy is unwilling to give up this chance. So, Andy nods and smiles—first to Miranda, then to Gregory.

"Of course," Gregory agrees.

"Great. Let's move toward a quieter area, why don't we?" Andy suggests and, with one last smile directed toward Miranda, she leads the hapless man toward a less-crowded area.

"She knows my name," Gregory says in awe. Andy smirks. She doesn't want to burst his bubble. It amazes her how everyone believes that Miranda remembers their names.

"Right, so why don't you tell me how you got involved with this charity?" Andy begins. She asks several questions, steadfastly ignoring how distracted he seems or the glances he shoots toward Miranda every five-frickin-seconds. Twenty minutes later, Andy winds up the interview. "Thank you for your time Gregory. I may be calling you with some follow-up questions, if you don't mind."

"No, not at all." Gregory seems to wake up. "How do you know Miranda?"

"I am her assistant," Andy replies. She isn't ashamed of that fact, yet she doesn't wear her position like a badge of honor, either. Or like a gold star.

Soon enough she will move on from this position. Andy tries not to think about that too much since she feels her heart twist every time she remembers that soon enough she will no longer see Miranda every day.

"She's extraordinary. What a wonderful woman." He shakes his head. "She thinks I am a complete idiot. I finally summon the nerve to approach her, and all I can say is that she looks great." Gregory sports a pained look. "Pretty pathetic."

Andy presses her lips together and shakes her head in commiseration. "Don't beat yourself up. Many people become tongue-tied around her." She smiles encouragingly. "It could have been much worse, believe me."

Gregory begins staring at Andy like she is a really interesting puzzle, his eyes lighting up. "You can help me!" He grabs her by the elbows and says excitedly, "You know her. You must know her really well since you are her assistant. You can give me some tips on how to have a conversation with her without totally bombing." Andy is already shaking her head no. She gently but firmly pulls her arms away.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to figure her out on your own." Andy sure as hell isn't going to help someone "approach" Miranda. If he wants to talk to her, he'll just have to work harder.

"Please, Andrea. You seem like a really nice person. You obviously know her very well," Gregory continues while waving toward Miranda. "I just need a bit of an edge, a way to connect with her. I'm not asking you to reveal any big secrets, just some of her likes and dislikes, something that might get her to look twice at me."

"No way. If she ever got wind of it, my career would be over. Finito. Done. She'd be livid. And I wouldn't blame her." Watching Gregory deflate as she vetoes his plan, Andy feels compassion well within her breast. She stomps on it. Hard.

Andy refuses to admit she is being selfish. She is doing what's best for him. Miranda would eat him up for breakfast and spit him out to make room for lunch.

"You're right, of course. What a fool I am. To think I could ever interest someone of that caliber. She is glorious, gorgeous, and smart as a whip. I'm just a bumbling, tongue-tied bum." Andy looks at him, really looks at him. He is handsome and seems to be kind. The interview has revealed his long history of charity work. He is wealthy—old money—and desires to help those less fortunate. And unlike Miranda's ex-husbands, he seems genuinely smitten. Miranda could do much worse.

Since her divorce to Stephen, Miranda hasn't dated anyone. That must be lonely. Instead, she spends long hours at _Runway_ or off-work time with her daughters.

Andy hasn't dated in over a year, not since Paris, and Christian, and her break-up with Nate, and her revelation that she is head-over-heels in love with her unattainable boss.

Debating on whether she has finally, irrevocably gone over the deep end, Andy says softly, "Well, perhaps I can help." _She deserves to be happy._ Andy studies him for long moments before saying in a low voice, "If you hurt her, there's nowhere in the world you'll be able to hide from me." Andy stares hard at him, wanting him to see just how serious she is. He nods, his eyes wide.

"Okay, then. You need to capitalize on meeting her immediately so she will remember who you are. A letter would be a good start—a love letter so she knows exactly why you are contacting her. She likes directness." Andy taps her chin with her finger, a habit she has picked up by being around Miranda. "Although she'd never admit it, she's a romantic, too. So, pour on the charm."

Glancing at Gregory, Andy stops short. "What is it?" she asks, puzzled by how despondent he looks. He should be excited about this opportunity to woo Miranda while having Andy around to help him.

"I can't write to save my life," he shrugs. "I've never been eloquent. I'm good with numbers, not words. If I'm supposed to romance her through letters, I won't have a chance. She won't even get through the first paragraph before she'll throw it away in disgust." Gregory rubs the back of his neck, sighing in frustration. Andy's right there with him.

"All right, all right. This doesn't need to be insurmountable. I'm a writer." Andy doesn't add the fact that she is in love with Miranda. Gregory doesn't need to know that. "I can write the letter. You know what? Meet me tomorrow morning and I'll give you the best introductory love letter you've ever seen."

"Oh, Andrea, that's extremely generous, but—"

"No, no. You want a chance with Miranda, you need to reach her through grand, romantic gestures." Andy crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for Gregory's answer.

"Okay, sure. Thank you, Andrea. I won't forget this. Tomorrow morning we can meet near your work. I'll even buy you breakfast." Recognizing that Gregory looks like he's going to hug her, Andy puts her hands up defensively and steps away.

"See you tomorrow." Andy says before walking back toward Miranda as her mind churns over what she's agreed to do. She's going to romance Miranda into someone else's bed. Biting back a sob, Andy firmly chastises herself for being so weak. She's doing this for Miranda's future happiness. That's all that matters.

A throat being cleared raises Andy's eyes to Miranda's inquiring ones. Andy smiles brightly, blinking fiercely to force any mutant tears from jumping off her eyelashes and sliding down the slope of her cheeks. "Miranda, do you need anything?"

Miranda stares at Andy once again for a very long time, long enough for Andy to wonder whether Miranda had somehow overheard her conversation with Gregory. "No. As a matter of fact, you look a bit fatigued. Go home, Andrea." Trapping Andy with another x-ray stare for more endless moments, Miranda frowns ever so slightly, and Andy mourns her part in bringing such unhappiness to Miranda. A slight jerk of her head toward the door serves as Miranda's final dismissal. Andy scampers away while her mind begins formulating the letter.

If Andy cannot win Miranda's heart for herself, she will do so for someone who wants to make Miranda smile.

By the time she arrives at her apartment, Andy has a good idea of what to write. After all, she has already written such words in her mind a hundred times. She has only to look in her soul and copy the words inscribed on it. For the next hour, Andy writes words and crosses them out, balls up pieces of paper then smoothes them out, shouts out her frustrations and her triumphs over words that start and stutter until finally, finally the message begins to form.

If anyone were to witness this process, this person would see not just these fits of passion but hear words bandied about such as "your eyes," "your lips," "lovely," "a goddess," "I worship," and "I faint." At last, Andy reads the final version and grins victoriously. Carefully, she copies the letter onto expensive stock and inscribes Miranda's name on the envelope. Andy leaves the envelope open so Gregory will be able to read it before having it messengered over.

Miranda will never know what hit her.


	4. Chapter 3

Part 3

_Fourteen hours earlier_

"Andrea. Pssst. Andrea!" Andy looks up from her desk to see Emily frantically motioning her to join her in Miranda's office. Andy hops up, curious.

"What?" Andy is surprised when Emily grabs her arm and drags her to Miranda's desk.

"Look at these letters!" Emily hisses. "They're from Gregory." Before Andy can see which letters are there, Emily scoops them up and starts reading. "The more you take of my heart, the more I have!"

"Oh," Andy says unenthusiastically.

"And this: 'Since I need a heart with which to suffer, if you keep mine, send me yours!'" Emily looks up from the pages. "Can you believe this tripe?"

"I know. First he has too much heart, then he doesn't have enough." Andy rolls her eyes for better effect.

"Can you believe he's been sending these letters for a month, and Miranda actually reads them!"

"She's kept them, too." Andy feels a glow of pride suffuse her. She wrote those letters. All of them. "Do you think they're dating?"

"They are going to dinner tonight," Emily whispers, scandalized.

Nodding pensively, Andy hopes Gregory doesn't muck it up. She keeps her thoughts from dwelling on how her words have enabled him to secure this first date or on how he will be able to spend time with Miranda. She does not want to become jealous. More jealous.

"Oh, how about this? 'Believe me when I say that my heart cries out to you, and that if kisses could be sent in writing, you would read this letter with your lips.' Talk about romantic drivel!" Hearing a ring tone, Emily reads a text. "She's on her way." Emily places the letters where she found them as Andy hurries out to fetch some coffee.

Stepping into Starbucks, Andy hears her cell phone ringing. She reads Gregory's name as she steps up to the barrister. "Hello?"

"Andy, I need your help! I—"

"Wait a moment." Andy orders the coffee and pays. "Sorry. What's wrong?"

"I'm having dinner with Miranda tonight. What do I do? What do I say? She's going to realize I can't say those things you wrote." Gregory continues with his panic attack while Andy picks up the order and strides out of the coffee shop.

"Gregory, calm down. You're fine. Look. You're a nice guy. Those letters were to capture her attention. Now that you have it, you can move on to revealing who you really are and getting to know who Miranda is."

"I'm boring and unsophisticated. She'll lose interest," Gregory wails.

Andy stops on the corner, waiting for the traffic light to change. Glancing down the street, she spots Miranda's Mercedes. "Shit! Okay, Gregory, I have to go. We'll talk later. Bye." Andy ignores his frantic sputtering as she flies off the sidewalk with the light change and practically runs. She makes it before the town car parks. Without sparing a glance toward Miranda, Andy makes it to the elevator in record time and leans against the back of it as it rises. "Phew!" Straightening as the elevator slows, she is through the doors before they are completely open.

"She's here, Em," Andy warns as she passes the desks to deposit the coffee. Quickly, Andy turns and sits at her desk just as Miranda rounds the corner. Andy greets Miranda congenially, appreciating Miranda's outfit. She freezes when Miranda graces her with a small smile.

"Andrea."

Shooting up from her seat, Andy follows Miranda into her office. She holds her notepad and pen at the ready for today's directives, not daring to look at Miranda again. Drooling and writing notes do not mix well. However, after several moments of not hearing anything, Andy has no choice but to chance a glance at Miranda. Who is staring at her closely.

"I read your article on the charities. It was well-done. What are you working on next?" Miranda tilts her head as her eyes drill into Andy.

"I was thinking of writing about invisibility cloaks," Andy answers hesitantly. She watches Miranda's eyebrows shoot up in question. "Scientists have been researching how to use silk coated with gold to bend or reflect certain energy wavelengths around them. In effect, it works like a shield, hiding whatever is surrounded by the material and allowing the observer to see what is behind the shielded object. Like in Harry Potter, they can hide what is cloaked. Scientists are hoping to use it for medical means, but the military is also experimenting." Andy watches Miranda as she thinks about what Andy has told her.

"Very well. I'll expect it on my desk by Monday. That's all." Miranda turns her chair toward the window banks as Andy's mouth drops open. _Oh my God!_ Without another word Andy makes it to her desk.

She will never understand this woman.

The rest of the day, Miranda stays in the office. Andy tries not to stare at her too often. The woman exudes confidence, sex appeal, and satisfaction. Andy likes to think that she has had a hand in Miranda's mood. The fact that Miranda has kept all the letters makes Andy's heart skip a beat. If only Miranda knew that it was Andy who had written all of them, that it is Andy who pines for her love, that it is Andy who soaks her pillow each night with tears of frustration, rage, and despair.

_It doesn't matter_, Andy reminds herself. Even if Miranda did know, she would never contemplate granting Andy a chance. Why would she? She deserves someone who adores her, someone who is willing to do anything to make sure Miranda is happy, someone who respects all Miranda has created at _Runway_ and to a larger extent within the fashion world. Gregory will treat her well. He has to. _Otherwise, he will answer to me,_ Andy vows grimly.


	5. Chapter 4

Part 4

_One hour earlier_

Knocking stops Andy's writing. Placing her pen down on the notebook, she approaches her door. Looking through the peephole, she is surprised to see Gregory wringing his hands. "Andy? Are you in there?"

With a sigh, she opens the door. "This is a surprise." Andy moves away from the door, allowing him to enter. "Why aren't you with Miranda?" she asks while leading him in to the living room.

"I failed, Andy! I tried to tell her about my work, but she already knows all about it from your article. I tried to ask her about her life, but she wouldn't give me details. She wanted me to talk to her the way the letters spoke to her heart. That's what she said!"

"Oh, no! Gregory, I handed her to you on a silver platter! I told you all the little details about what she likes and dislikes, what her facial expressions mean, what subjects to avoid—weren't you listening?" Andy sinks into the couch.

"I was, but I became nervous. I couldn't think of what to say. I tried to remember what you wrote in the letters, but it was no use. By the time the entrees arrived, she wasn't even interested enough to continue speaking to me. It was awful!" Andy watches Gregory plant his face into his hands, but feels nothing but anger. All that work, all the sacrifices Andy has made for the chance to make Miranda happy, and Gregory, the buffoon, has fucked it up.

_No, it will not end this way_. Andy jumps up. "Let's go."

"Where?" Gregory looks up, a defeated look on his face.

"To Miranda's house. You need to talk to her right away."

"She won't listen to me now. I've blown it."

"I'll help you. But this is the last time. If you can't figure it out once you get in the door, then it will be your loss." Andy tries not to think about why she is helping him even now. _Why not try this myself? Miranda obviously responded well to the letters_. Maybe she would give Andy a chance...

Andy shakes away such ridiculous thoughts. She doesn't remember hitting her little head, but maybe she did…

They have the taxi drop them off a block away. "You must repeat what I say to you. Do you understand? If you don't, she'll never let you through the door." Andy cautions.

"Do you think this will really work?" Gregory seems hopeful but anxious.

"Yes. Here we are. I'm going to hide in the bushes. Make sure you repeat what I say!"

"I will."

Andy climbs into the shrubbery and watches while Gregory approaches the front door of the townhouse.

"I'm ready," Gregory whispers loudly.

"Ring the doorbell. When she comes, tell her you wish to speak to her."

When the outside light comes on, Gregory makes his request. They hear Miranda say through the door, "Do not waste my time." Andy can hear the derision clearly even from her hiding place.

"Tell her you have longed to bask in her brilliance since the first moment you saw her, but when you were finally in her presence, you felt like a slug that must hide beneath the stones. You felt unworthy and tongue-tied." Andy hopes Gregory will sound believable. Listening to his desperate tone and her words, though, she is sure Miranda will not turn away.

"I'm listening," Miranda says slowly.

"Say to her, 'You have intoxicated me so that I have forgotten how to speak or do anything other than soak up your light. Yet, under the cover of darkness, my mind and mouth have once more agreed to work in concert'," Andy says softly. Not hearing Gregory, Andy peaks out from behind the bush and stares at him. "Say it!" she hisses.

He does. Andy sighs. Now the hard part. She knows what she has him say next will give him the chance she so greatly covets.

"Tell her you no longer wish to merely use pretty words to touch her heart. That they have served their purpose in garnering her attention, but now you wish to throw off all artificiality and to stop playing the game of love with mere words." Andy feels her heart become heavy when she hears Miranda's reply.

"You've certainly gotten my attention," Miranda admits through the door.

"Let me in," Gregory implores to Andy's horror. _So close! What an imbecile!_

"You fool!" Andy hisses. "Tell her that you are overwhelmed by your feelings and cannot control their outpouring or arrange them as you do in letters." Andy thinks for a moment. "Tell her, tell her that you well remember how she looked on the night of the benefit. Valentino had outdone himself. Her beauty obviously had inspired him." She holds her breath, waiting.

"You don't say?" Miranda drawls. Andy makes a thumbs-up sign to Gregory. Miranda's coming around.

Andy feeds more lines, knowing he, because of her words, is getting through to Miranda. Miranda will finally know how incredible she is. "Say, 'My feelings for you inspire me to be a better person. How gladly would I give up my happiness for the sake of yours, even without your knowledge, asking to hear from a distance every now and again the laughter borne of my sacrifice!'" At Gregory's look of consternation, Andy hisses, "Trust me. Say it!" He does.

"Say, 'Yet, each time I see you, you strengthen my courage and bring forth some new virtue. I feel courageous enough to ask that you not send me away without the promise that you will dine with me again.'" Andy places a hand over her eyes. She can hardly believe she is seducing Miranda in this way. It is nearly unbearable. Silence.

"Tell her you cannot bear to leave without a sign that she will not throw your love away like a pair of last season's shoes," Andy says in a low voice from the bushes. The front light shines like a spotlight on Gregory, who looks a bit panicked.

Andy arches her neck to see him more clearly while adjusting a sprig to cover her face.

"I can't…"

"Tell her!" Andy hisses.


	6. Chapter 5

Part 5

_Now_

Andy sits at her desk writing another letter. She can't help but think that, although Gregory will no longer need these letters, Andy still needs to write them. She has been home for two hours since her humanitarian act of getting Gregory through Miranda's door, and Andy is consumed with jealousy. Of course, she has no one to blame but herself.

"A kiss. A vow made at closer range, a more precise promise, a confession that contains its own proof, a seal placed on a pact that has already been signed; it's a secret told to the mouth rather than to the ear, a fleeting moment filled with the hush of eternity, a communion that has the fragrance of a flower, a way of living by the beat of another heart, and tasting another soul on one's lips." Andy finishes reading her words and grimaces in agony.

Throwing down her pen, Andrea feels tears dripping off her face. Noting how they smudge her writings, Andy turns away. Gregory probably has shared many kisses with Miranda tonight. Maybe more. Andy blanches.

Turning back to the notebook, she rips out the pages, one at a time. As she does so she becomes more and more angry, even as her tears gather speed. Andy finally understands that she must let go of all the unrealistic hopes she's harbored. She will never be with Miranda.

Hearing a knock, Andy blindly stumbles to the door. Distraught, Andy flings the door wide before freezing in shock. Before her stands Miranda with the oddest expression on her face. Andy turns quickly, swiping at her tears uselessly.

"Andrea." The way Miranda says her name causes Andy to shiver.

"Why aren't you with Gregory?" Andy asks before she can think better of it.

Miranda tilts her head. "Why would I be with him? Our dinner concluded several hours ago."

Focusing on Miranda's face, Andy can practically feel the trap she is setting. "Oh. Well, I must have lost track of the time." She stands stiffly as Miranda touches Andy's hair softly. Miranda withdraws her hand and looks at a pine needle she has retrieved. Andy's eyes widen as Miranda smirks.

Hearing her cell phone ring, Andy walks to her desk, Miranda following closely. Looking at the call screen, Andy grimaces. It's Gregory. Miranda also sees who is calling.

"Aren't you going to answer that, Andrea?" Miranda drawls. It's clear that Gregory has messed up again and is calling for more advice. Or more letters. Andy realizes that all the rough drafts of the love letters are spread across her desk. Murphy's Law is in full effect, however, and before Andy can move Miranda away, she sees them.

In horror, Andy watches as Miranda picks them up and starts to scan them. "Hey!" she shouts and tries to pull them out of Miranda's hands. Miranda is stronger than she appears, though, and holds on tightly while continuing to read. Miranda focuses on the top page containing the words Andy has just written. "Don't read those. Please!" Andy cries, continuing to tug at the papers ineffectually.

Suddenly Miranda pivots and successfully breaks Andy's grasp. She takes several steps away from the desk and begins to read aloud. "A kiss.…a way of living by the beat of another heart, and tasting another soul on one's lips." Miranda looks up, fire in her eyes. "I haven't seen this one."

Andy gasps. Mutely, Andy watches Miranda gently move her thumb over tear stains gracing the pages before placing the letters on a nearby table.

"I knew the handwriting looked familiar," Miranda murmurs. She strides toward Andy, who backs up into the desk. In the blink of an eye, Miranda is so close that their breaths mingle. Before Andy can fathom what is occurring, Miranda has pulled her forward for a luscious, intense, extremely thorough kiss.

Andy wonders whether her grief over Gregory's pursuit of Miranda combined with her knowledge that Miranda could never, ever return her love have thrown her into some type of psychotic break. Certainly she is not kissing Miranda Priestly, the woman she has loved from afar for so, so long. It is not possible. Any moment now she will return to her lonely reality, crying over her broken heart.

Any moment now.

A tongue seeking entrance causes Andy to moan loudly. She practically swoons as Miranda takes her time exploring the contours of her mouth before stroking their tongues together gloriously. Andy realizes that she is bent backward, practically prostrate on the desk, as Miranda's hands hold her head steady. Miranda's single-minded focus on plundering Andy's mouth causes Andy's body to burn. Surely she shall combust from disbelief, heat, ecstasy, or some combination.

When Miranda finally ends the kiss, she does not release Andy's face. They stare at each other. Andy is mesmerized by Miranda's passion-darkened eyes and flushed face. She pants lightly, not knowing what will happen next. This is so outside of her imagination, she can do nothing but wait for Miranda to say something, do something.

Gently, Miranda moves her hands to Andy's upper arms and pulls her into an upright position. They become flush with each other, causing Andy to lose what little breath she has regained. Miranda smirks as she wraps her arms around Andy's waist. Reverently, Andy runs her hands over Miranda's shoulder blades, satisfaction blazing through her when she feels Miranda tremble.

"It never quite made sense to me how he knew me so well. Those letters," Miranda sighs. "Those letters. I wanted to be the woman described in those letters. I wanted to be loved the way those letters professed to love me."

Andy is fascinated. She feels an elegant hand cup her cheek.

"Yet at dinner tonight, Gregory proved tiresome." Andy cannot help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. She had spent more time than she cared to admit with the man, and although he isn't the most fascinating person she has ever met, he isn't the most boring either. Catching Andy's look, Miranda adds, "His behavior did not measure up to those letters in any way."

Although she isn't quite sure why, Andy feels tears lining up.

"You can imagine my surprise when he showed up at my door two hours later speaking so eloquently that it sounded as if he were reading poetry. Or being coached." Andy catches her breath and bites her bottom lip. "I still couldn't figure out how that could be until he mentioned what I wore at the charity event last month."

Miranda smiles fully, stroking Andy's cheek. "How could you think I would not recognize the same words you spoke that night to me?" Andy shakes her head mutely. "That coupled with his little speech about giving up his happiness for mine gave me cause to become suspicious. So, I pulled him inside and persuaded him to reveal the truth."

Andy is uncertain how to react. Perhaps recognizing her anxiety, Miranda smiles softly. "I have wanted to be closer to you for some time. I promised myself I would wait until your tenure was over and you were no longer my assistant. I've been grooming you for an assistant features editor position, or did you believe I allow all my assistants to write articles for _Runway_?" Ignoring Andy's gasp, Miranda continues. "And I realized something tonight. Every time I read those letters, I heard your voice. His voice and your words never meshed well." Miranda looks at Andy through lowered eyelashes. "Knowing that you return my feelings," Miranda shrugs gracefully, "how could I stay away?"

"But you were willing to be with him—you had dinner with him!" Andy says in despair.

"No, no. I had no intention of being with him, as you so eloquently characterize it. I wanted to put an end to the letters, as delicious as they were—I might not have quite figured out what was occurring, but I knew I had no intention of being with him."

"Miranda, oh, Miranda!" Andy says before pulling her into a tight embrace. "I never allowed myself to imagine you might return my feelings—the notion seemed so absurd. I am such an imperfect beast, clumsy and awkward while basking in your beauty," Andy whispers fervently. "The chance to see you happy, even at the expense of my pitiable heart, proved too great a temptation." Pulling away Andy searches Miranda's eyes. "You must know I only want you to be happy."

"I am happy. Now. And I will be even happier when I feel your kiss again, when I hear you profess your love to me—"

"Oh, I do, I do!" Andrea interrupts. "Miranda, I love you to such an extent my heart is sorely overworked. Each time I see you, it beats so rapidly that I am surprised you cannot see it pushing against my breast, trying to reach you."

"Hmm. I think this bears investigation," Miranda says thoughtfully. She watches Miranda look around the apartment before their eyes reunite. Andy feels herself guided toward the bedroom. "Pushing against your breast, you say?" Miranda propels Andy on the bed and follows, holding herself above Andy's body slightly.

Turning her head to the side, Miranda makes a show of pressing her head against Andy's breastbone. "Well. It certainly sounds as if it is trying to break free. However, with all these clothes covering you, I cannot determine adequately what your heart is attempting. After all," Andy is pinned by fiery eyes, "I have learned rather recently that sometimes all is not as it appears."

Unable to do nothing more than shudder and moan and plead and gasp as Miranda removes her blouse, Andy lets loose a long, guttural moan when Miranda begins nibbling on her collarbones once Andy's chest is bare. "Miranda, let me touch you," Andy begs. "Please, if you hold any affection for me in your heart, do not deny me any longer. I have lived for this day."

Andy flips them over and unceremoniously pulls Miranda's blouse off. Gazing at the filmy lingerie taunting Andy, she rubs her cheek against Miranda's chest. She feels emboldened by Miranda's groan of pleasure.

"Miranda," Andy murmurs in awe. "Each whisper of your voice breathes life into me. I live each moment on the precipice of death, brought back from destruction by your words."

"Andrea," Miranda moans obligingly as Andy removes Miranda's skirt. Once she leans on her side with her eyes level to Miranda's belly button, Andy reverently strokes Miranda's hip, exploring the indentations with fascination. Andy runs her fingertips lightly over a slightly rounded belly, smiling as the muscles ripple in response. "Come here," Miranda pleads.

Andy has never heard that tone of voice. Shivering with anticipation, she crawls up the bed, held captive by intense blue eyes. Arms reach up to hold her closely as their lips melt together. Andy feels hands exploring her back before lowering to her hips. Andy surges forward as those wicked hands begin wandering over her buttocks. "Tell me what you are feeling," Miranda whispers into Andy's ear, nipping the lobe teasingly. As she lays claim to Andy's neck, she struggles to think.

"Ah!" Andy cries as teeth nibble a sensitive spot. "I am overcome by your magnificence, deconstructed and rebuilt with your affection. I am water transformed to steam by your heat, accumulating clouds ready to burst forth their liquid." Hands removing Andy's jeans cause her to lose her train of thought. With shaking hands, Andy unclasps Miranda's bra, revealing mouth-watering breasts. Strong fingers knead Andy's buttocks in a rhythm that guides her hips. Andy grinds forcefully against Miranda's thigh while her lips search and find a hardened bud. While sucking on a succulent nipple, Andy's eyes close in ecstasy.

Not taking the time to remove Miranda's panties, Andy pushes aside the filmy material to feel swollen, dripping lips. Andy's name is ripped from Miranda's throat as she slips two fingers inside. Thrusting steadily, Andy flicks her thumb over the protruding clitoris. Fingers pull her head away from Miranda's breast roughly, threading through her hair as they kiss again and again. Andy undulates in time with her finger strokes as they both struggle to maintain their lip lock.

Andy doesn't try to verbalize her feelings now. She is lost in the physicality of their closeness, unable to think. When she feels Miranda's fingers wiggling between their bodies and finding their way to Andy's bundle of nerves, she loses all semblance of control.

Ripping her mouth away from Miranda's lips, Andy howls her pleasure into the night. Miranda's long, drawn-out moan signifies her own climax is upon her. Their bodies gyrate frantically, moving sinuously against each other.

It is glorious.

Andy has the presence of mind to slow down her finger thrusts and rub around Miranda's clitoris gently as she feels the afterglow take hold of her lover.

"Now you listen to me, Andrea Sachs," Miranda whispers throatily. Andy gazes into glistening eyes, loving how out-of-control and flushed Miranda appears. "I feel as if I have stared into the sun too long, and when I close my eyes, all I can see is you again and again and again. Your eyes, twin pools of light illuminating my soul, serve as a beacon my heart shall always willingly follow. Vow to me you will never extinguish such radiance, that you will never direct such brilliance elsewhere."

"Oh, Miranda, you must know I am yours. The first time I met you, I felt like a flower soaking in your radiance. After that day, my only nourishment could be found in you." Andy leans in to kiss Miranda slowly. One kiss becomes two, then several.

"Let us speak in a more fundamental language than that which words afford us," Andy murmurs suggestively before pulling off Miranda's ruined panties, then her own. "Let me communicate, my lips to yours," Andy continues as she opens Miranda's legs and shimmies downward, "using sweeping strokes to convey my meaning."

Miranda's incoherent cries soon fill the silence as Andy makes sure Miranda understands what words can never express.

The End.


End file.
